


Shore Leave 2: Salty Seas Indeed

by RyeBread



Series: Shore Leave [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Discussions of Prostitution, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Undernegotiated Kink, prostitution play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 11:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18151163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyeBread/pseuds/RyeBread
Summary: After a long time away, Fjord returns to the island and reacquaints himself with the locals. Long story short, Fjord shacks up with Rej again because I’m very self-indulgent and can’t let this AU go.





	Shore Leave 2: Salty Seas Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> So, there’s some kink. Namely a continuation of Rej’s favorite: have Fjord be the island whore. It’s talked about and Fjord indulges in the fantasy a bit. They don’t take it any further than talking about it (yet) and other than that there’s nothing particularly touchy. Enjoy, my deviant friends.

The next time Fjord sets his boots on the cool, wet sand of the island, over a decade has passed. Not a sailor, but a captain. The years haven't been easy, and Fjord's sure he's barely recognizable as the tenderfoot that arrived on Vandran's ship so long ago. His scars stand out on his skin, from the betrayal as well as the by-product of harsh adventuring, and he lets his tusks grow out nowadays. It's been a few years, but they sit right in his mouth, and he hasn't split his lip with them in months.

“Cap'n.”

The title snaps Fjord out of his reverie, and he turns to the man who spoke, "Orly?"

"I m~mean no offense, but it seems you've got a reason for being here," he says, shuffling down the plank to the shore. "M~mind filling us in, or can we assume we're free to stock up and, ah, refresh ourselves through the traditional m~- outlets?"

"Let the crew start carousing," Fjord says, waving a hand at the town. 

As much as he's changed, the island's changed ten-fold. The forest's been pushed back for what looks like miles, the paths are set with smooth stone. Where he remembers stalls and ramshackle dwellings, there are storefronts and homes and a complete dock. Fjord feels a small twist of... something. It's not regret, not really. Certainly not pride. He has no ties to this place. It's a deep feeling of things having changed while he was gone and fear--he can admit it's fear--that a cherished memory might be forever gone.

His crew, minus Orly, heads out to resupply, refresh, and all the other things men and women do when they've got space and privacy. "You got som~meplace in particular you were headed?" Orly asks, packing his pipe.

“I think there's somewhere I'd like to look into, from a long time back. Don't forget to let Marius have his turn on shore.”

"Aye aye." Orly takes a pull off his pipe, waving Fjord off as he makes his way across the beach to the town proper. The number of people strikes him first. There are a fair few more transient folks--merchants, explorers, pirates--but there are _children_ walking around, hand in hand with parents or each other or they're playing by themselves. It's a far cry from the scattered adults hawking wares to weary sailors from years prior. He finds the tavern where it used to stand, but it's no longer set close to the trees and away from the main town. It's the central building. The sign is, mercifully, the same overflowing tankard hanging on a building that looks too big for it, now. Fjord stands in the central square a moment, just looking at the sign and thinking about what exactly he wants to do here. Curiosity's always been his guiding force, but he's tempered that with lived experience. What, precisely, does he expect will happen when he walks through that door? Is Rej even still alive? If he is, what's to say he's not settled down, made a family like everyone else on this island? Or maybe he is alive and single and he's not interested in the man Fjord's become in the _decade_ since he was last here. He sighs, musters his courage, and steps through the door and into the dark interior of the tavern.

The mismatched tables and chairs are gone, replaced with uniform sets made of pale wood. The seats are largely unfilled at this hour, though it's not uninhabited. There are patrons and servers and the odd drunkard still sober enough for the hour of day.

“Can I help you?”

Fjord looks to his left, an older woman looking him up and down with a tray held beneath her arm. He puts on a charming blush as he smiles at her, "Sorry, just thinking too hard. If you don't mind me asking, have you lived here long?"  
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, "A while, I'd say. What's the interest, sailor? Looking for someone who knows their way around?"

“Looking for someone, yeah," Fjord says. 

"I just wondered if you might know where, uh, or maybe even if, he might be around here.”

"Can't help you if I don't know who you're looking for," the woman says, smirking.

“Right," Fjord says, his blush no longer a tactical application. "His uh, his name was Rej.”

“Rej?" The woman looks less confused than surprised. "What's got you looking for Rej?”

“I, uh, I met him a ways back," Fjord says, struggling to pull his confidence together. "It was a... memorable experience.”

The woman laughs heartily, "Oh I bet it was, sailor."

"Captain," Fjord corrects.

“I bet it was, _Captain_." She shifts the tray to her other arm. "I'll go see if he's awake. Have a seat.”

Fjord's heart rate is dangerously high when he parks himself on a stool at the bar. He orders whatever the bartender offers first, not paying much attention to exactly how much coin he puts on the counter. Whatever he drops, it gets him raised eyebrows and an appreciative smile. Fjord's not sure if the quality of the alcohol has gone up since he was here last or if it's his tolerance for swill, but it doesn't numb his tongue or set his lips tingling the way he distantly recalls. Still, he takes his time, slowly sipping away as he takes in the bar and tries to remember what it was like before. What's changed. The barkeep is a younger man, still swarthy, but softer featured and without the absurdly muscled forearms. He cleans the cups and stocks the shelves as Fjord watches him, trying to be discreet, but every so often he looks back with a smile. It's charming, if not exactly what he's looking for. He hears a door open behind him, audible over the low hum of scattered conversation. That in and of itself isn't particularly noteworthy until the heavy footsteps follow after. Fjord turns on the stool.

Rej is just a huge as he remembers, which is almost disheartening; personal growth doesn't actually translate to physical growth. Still, despite how much the island and even the tavern has changed, seeing that all Rej has done is earn a few deep furrows in his brow and under his eyes is strangely comforting. His frame is still massive, tusks just as prominent, and there's a glimmer of recognition in his dark, deep-set eyes. He steps right up to Fjord's stool, looking down at him, "I heard you were looking for me?"

Fjord's mouth goes dry, which he assuages with a quick gulp from the flagon before standing. It does absolutely nothing to mitigate their height difference. "You heard right," Fjord says, folding his arms and puffing his chest. "I don't suppose you'd remember me, but-"

"It's been a while, sailor," Rej interrupts, a slow smile stretching his lips along his tusks.

Fjord clears his throat, "Captain."

Rej's brow lifts, "Quite a promotion." 

“It is," Fjord says, and he shifts his eyes away, feeling increasingly awkward. _It's been ten years, it's a miracle he remembers you at all._ "So... My, uh, my ship's in the docks to resupply. I set the crew loose. Figured I could... see what's changed about this place of yours.”

Rej puts his hands on his hips, somehow filling even more of Fjord's vision as he rolls his shoulders back. "How about we catch up somewhere a little more private, captain," Rej says, dragging the last word out. Fjord stiffens in more than just his posture. "Mitul, cask of my third... second best wine. I'm entertaining a captain, you know."

"Aye, Rej," the barkeep--Mitul, Fjord supposes--barks, ducking under the bar for a moment. He grunts as he rises, hauling the cask up and onto the counter. "Pair of cups, captain?" he asks. 

"If you'd be so kind," Fjord says, refusing to flush. He fishes into his vest pocket, taking out a pair of platinum pieces. Mitul's eyes go wide.

Rej puts a hand over Fjord's, stopping him from dropping them on the bartop. "My second best's still not all that good. Plus, we're old friends, aren't we?"

"That's a word for it," Fjord says, taking his hand back. When Rej hefts the cask with one arm onto his shoulder, Fjord slips two platinum pieces onto the counter as he accepts the pair of fine wood cups. Mitul starts to say something, but Fjord stares him down. He might fluster easy, but he didn't make it through hell and high water all these years without picking up some tricks. Mitul nods, slipping the coins into his apron.

"You coming?" Rej asks, a few paces away. He doesn't turn to look back, but Fjord can _feel_ the shit eating grin he's got to be wearing.

“We'll have to see about that," Fjord says, but follows after as Rej heads back through the door he entered. As he starts up the wide stairway after Rej, he muses, "I seem to recall I was carried up these the last time I was here. Seems your services have gotten lax.”

“I'm carrying something else," Rej says, patting the cask. "I can't risk dropping my second best wine or first best ass by carrying both.”

"Someone's feeling bold," Fjord says.

“I’m not the one asking for someone by name on the chance they’ll... what was it you were looking for?”

“A conversation,” Fjord says. “It’s been a long time.”

“Do you still jerk it to me?”

Fjord coughs, “Hell of a conversation starter.”

Rej opens the door at the top of the stairs, ushering Fjord in. He gives Fjord’s ass a heavy pat as he walks past. “Simple question,” he growls.

Fjord puts a hand on his rump, “Do you?” Fjord challenges.

“Course I do,” Rej says, setting the cask on a sturdy table with a single chair tucked into it. The room is huge, and still dominated by the four post bed in the middle of it. Fjord’s recollection of what the finer details were is, admittedly, pretty vague, but it looks a lot more decorated. The walls have several colorful paintings; the shore at sunset, impressions of the buildings under construction, delicate portraits. There are little sculptures on the end tables, wood carvings and stonework. Rej pulls out a chair from the writing desk and sets it on one side of the table, then sits with a wide gesture for Fjord to join him.

Fjord looks at the desk chair then back to Rej. "Offering me only the second best seat in the house? Your standards really have dropped."

Rej blinks in confusion, then laughs uproariously and scoots his chair out. "Here, your throne."

Fjord steps between Rej's legs, shuffs his coattail over Rej's thigh, and perches on it. "Better."

Rej slings his left arm around Fjord's waist, "So, Captain, now that I've got you where I want you, are you ready to regale me with your adventures at sea?"

“I would, but you see, I've got a mighty thirst. If you would be so kind?”

Rej pinches Fjord’s hip for being cheeky, but manages to pour a cup of wine one handed in a display of surprising dexterity. "Of course, what sort of host am I?"

Fjord accepts the cup graciously, crosses his ankles, and drinks deeply. It's a fair margin better than what he was drinking downstairs, but that's not really saying much. "Thank you kindly. Now, how should I start?"

“Hm," Rej rumbles, "last I heard you were a sailor on a little trade vessel stopping by my port. Well, I stopped by your port if memory holds.”

“Right," Fjord says, and he blushes at the memory and the accompanying jostle Rej gives him. "Well, not two years later, the ship went down. I washed up on the Menagerie Coast, not far from Nicodranas. Tell me, have you heard of the Ruby of the Sea?”

“Who hasn't?" Rej asks. He takes a long pull from his cup and starts to pour himself another. "Don't tell me, she found you there on shore, nursed you back to health, and so began your torrid affair, kept secret all these years to preserve her _business_.”

“Not quite," Fjord says, leaning more of his weight against the arm bracing his back to get more comfortable. "I actually met her daughter.”

"Ooh, even more forbidden--the Ruby's hidden treasure. What'd she go by, the Emerald of the Sea?" Rej chortles, stroking Fjord's side absently.

“Sapphire, actually," Fjord corrects. He puts his free hand on Rej's shoulder both to keep his balance and to feel the heat of him from under his laced up shirt. It's different from when he first met Rej in all his shirtless glory, but there's a certain appeal to the way his sleeves strain to contain his thick arms. "Anyway, we traveled for a time...”

Rej is a good listener, active when it calls for it, laughing when appropriate. Fjord doesn't tell him everything, but he does tell him enough. His fateful meeting with Beau, then the rest of what would become the Mighty Nein. He skips over a bit of the whole working for a crime boss thing, doesn't dwell on his capture by the Iron Shepherds, though Rej goes solemn when he mentions Molly. In all, it's just nice to have someone to tell some version of his story to; someone who hasn't lived it with him. He can pretend it was all a grand adventure where everything worked out in the end, the good guys won, evil fell. It's a nice story. As he trails off, Rej pours him another cup, his third or fourth. "So," Rej says, putting his own cup on the table, "how much of that was the truth, Captain Fjord?"

“The important bits," Fjord says, squeezing Rej's shoulder. "Did it sate your curiosity?”

“That much was sated," Rej says. "Unfortunately for my story, the last few years on the island have been boring as shit. Most interesting thing that's happened was when that storm hit us a few years back. Nobody died, repairs finished within the month. Too quiet here, sometimes.”

"Would you have prefered to be devastated?" Fjord asks, incredulous.

“Fuck no, but I'd at least have something to make you feel a little better." Rej pulls him in closer, sliding Fjord up his thigh, "So why'd you come back here, Captain? Finally reconsider my proposition from all those years ago?”

Fjord takes a final sip from his cup, letting the last drop fall onto his outstretched tongue before setting it on the edge of the table. "Hm. You know, I seem to have forgotten what kind of offer you'd made. Care to refresh my memory?"

"I remember asking if you'd ever thought about forgetting about all the stress of sailing and coming to live here on the island," Rej says, bringing his face to Fjord's, bumping their noses together.

Fjord pushes forward into a kiss, lips pressing together and hands finding purchase in Rej’s shirt. Between breaths and touching tongues, Fjord asks, “Just living here?”

“Thought you’d be awful pretty,” Rej gasps, pawing down Fjord’s front, “set up as the island’s whore. You wouldn’t have to worry about all the captaining shit.”

Fjord pulls back, grinning, “You wouldn’t get jealous, seeing the best ass on this island used by someone else?”

“Like anyone here could stretch you out more than me,” Rej growls. “Get those fancy clothes of yours off before I have to tear them loose.”

Fjord obliges, slipping first free of the overcoat, then the vest. They go one then the other over the back of the second chair, tossed haphazardly. He starts to undo the top button of his shirt, then pauses, looking up at Rej watching him with focused, hungry eyes. “Was that a threat or a promise?”

Rather than answer, Rej stands. Fjord starts to tip backward before Rej’s arms go under his rump and across his back, pressing him into Rej’s ample chest and stomach. “Teasing me, hm?”

“More of a dare, really,” Fjord says, tugging on Rej’s shirt to kiss him. He laughs as Rej tosses him onto the bed on his back. He scarcely has time to get his bearings before Rej has a finger under his collar. Fjord meets his eyes with a smile and gives a quick nod.

The buttons of his ruffled shirt pop off in rapid succession, the dull drag of Rej’s nail drawing a line down his chest and stomach. “I’ve never been one for carefully unwrapping my presents,” Rej says, looming over Fjord. “Too eager.”

“Help yourself,” Fjord says, letting his arms lay on either side of his head. 

“I intend to,” Rej says, and pulls the torn flaps of his shirt aside to get a good look at him. He takes in the view for a moment, then puts his mouth along every inch of skin he can reach. Fjord arches at the wet slide of Rej’s tongue on him; his stomach, his ribs, his chest. He swirls the tip of his tongue along the points of Fjord’s nipples, then thumbs at them while he tastes his way up Fjord’s neck. “Just as salty-sweet as I remember, _Fjord_.”

“How about you help me get my boots and pants off and you can see what else tastes how you remember?” Fjord asks, bucking his hips off the bed.

“Bossy,” Rej says, but dutifully pulls his belt loose, shucking Fjord’s pants down his thighs, below his knees.

“My boots?” Fjord asks, wiggling his feet as a reminder. 

“The Captain act’s cute and all,” Rej says, grabbing the bunched fabric between Fjord’s calves in one hand, “but let’s not pretend you want to be calling all the shots here.”

Fjord yelps as Rej hoists his legs up, putting him almost on his shoulders. He can feel Rej’s breath on his bare ass. Fjord licks his lips, “Don’t like a little challenge?”

“You want to take charge, just say the word,” Rej says, Fjord watching his face from between his own thighs. “If you don’t object, I’m gonna help myself to this hole of yours right now.”

“I’ll allow i- ah!” Fjord cuts off with a yelp as Rej nips the cheek of his ass. He glares up at Rej, who winks then licks the smarting wound. He continues over the curve of Fjord’s ass and over his hole. Rej’s tusks press against Fjord’s skin uncomfortably, but he can’t find the words nor the will to complain when this is the best tonguing he’s gotten in years. Fjord groans, rolling his shoulders to get his neck in a more comfortable position. He plays with his nipples, pinching and tugging to add to the sensation. With all the blood kept rushing to his head mixed with a generous helping of wine, he’s pleasantly detached and swimming through the sensation. When Rej leans back and sets Fjord’s legs down to pull off his boots, Fjord has to blink and take a few deep breaths to get his bearings. “All tuckered out?”

“Jaw’s getting tired,” Rej grunts good naturedly. “You still like getting fingered?”

“It’s been a few days,” Fjord says and stretches his arms, loosening his neck. “Might need to check that.”

Rej wrenches Fjord’s pants off completely and walks around the bed to the nightstand, taking a swig of wine before rummaging through the top drawer for a tall glass bottle. “Here we go. Now get up the bed, lay against the pillows. All the way. Now,” he says, uncorking the bottle and leaning over Fjord’s prone form. He puts a knuckle under Fjord’s chin to press their mouths together, swallowing Fjord’s surprised yelp when he pours a generous splash of oil down his front. “Gonna get you nice a slicked.”

Fjord runs his fingers through the light golden oil, rubbing it between them. As Rej dips his tongue past Fjord’s lips, Fjord spreads the oil down his stomach, between his legs, rubbing his aching length with it just to get some relief. He palms himself, pressing his cock against his thigh to keep from getting too excited. The oil trails down his balls and over his already wet hole. He closes his eyes, letting the slow pressure on his cock and the demanding presence of Rej’s tongue keep his senses occupied. His nerves flare when Rej’s wide hand rests over top of his own, stilling it’s movements. “Hm?”

Rej pulls away enough to speak, “May I?”

“I’d be mighty disappointed if you didn’t,” Fjord says, patting Rej’s face with his far hand. He slides his occupied hand out from under Rej’s and thrusts gently up against it. Rej’s fingers slide down his length, slick and warm, and fondle his balls gently. Fjord reaches over to touch Rej’s chest, but pauses. “That shirt’s gonna get messy,” he warns. 

Rej grunts, which is likely as much permission as he’s going to grant given his fixation with Fjord’s balls. His thick fingers are careful, but deliberate as they work them, tugging and stroking. His breathing picks up when Fjord strokes down his front to where his shirt hangs loose and sticks his hand underneath to touch the hot, fuzzy skin of his belly. Fjord’s other hand moves from Rej’s face to his wrist, not to stop him but to encourage his fingers lower. Rej obliges, smirking, and tucks the pad of his index finger against Fjord’s slick hole, just sliding it around the opening, teasing out gasps and groans before dipping in to the first knuckle.

Fjord arches his back, lifting his ass off the bed. He tries to reach Rej’s cock, or at least pull down the front of his pants, but he doesn’t quite have the angle. “Rej, come on,” he says, giving his stomach a limp pat. “Let me help you out.”

“In a bit,” Rej says, switching his gaze from Fjord’s groin to his face. “It’s been years, Captain. I intend to take my time.”

True to his word, Rej spends long minutes getting his finger fully hilted, twisting and plunging and curling inward to draw out low whines from Fjord. He takes mercy every so often to let Fjord thrust against his arm, doesn’t complain when Fjord digs his nails into his forearm, having lost interest in convincing Rej to put his own cock in reach. When Rej manages to squeeze two fingers into Fjord, he’s panting hard and near begging, “Rej, please, just- I want to see you, all of you.”

“Do you need a break?” Rej asks, still dutifully working him open. 

“Yes,” Fjord breathes, his cock straining and leaking and teased to the point that it’s crossing the line into hurting. “Please. Just a bit.”

“Well all you had to do was ask,” Rej says, slipping his hand free. Fjord’s ass clenches and his dick throbs, but he sighs in relief. “You want to see me, mm? Well, be a good man and get me undressed then.”

Fjord takes a steadying breath before getting onto his knees on the mattress. He finally has a chance to think and, given how much control he’s given up he thinks it’s only fair he indulge in Rej’s plainly stated fantasy a bit to see if he can’t take some of it back. “You know, I haven’t dallied with many whores, but I’m pretty sure you’d want to be laying down, let me take care of you.”

“Have you really been reconsidering, then?” Rej asks, still smiling, but sits on the edge of the mattress. “You think you could be a proper whore for this place?”

“I could give it a shot,” Fjord says, moving to allow Rej more room on the bed. It’s not easy to accommodate him even with the size of it. “For tonight at least.”

“Tonight,” Rej echoes, nodding. Fjord wouldn’t be surprised if he’s played this game before. “We’ll have a talk about it after. See if you’re really a good fit.”

“I do have a ship to run,” Fjord reminds him, already unlacing Rej’s shirt at the collar.

“Mm,” Rej says, “I think you’re a little too thoughtful. Get me out of these clothes.”

Fjord wrinkles his nose playfully before rolling it up from the hem, enjoying the steady reveal of his soft, muscular gut. Heavy fur trails from his belt all the way up to his chest, a thick mat across his pecs and up his throat. Rej sits halfway up to let Fjord get his shirt over his head and off his arms. “I see you haven’t changed much,” Fjord says, tweaking a dark nipple. 

“Just as fat as I’ve always been,” Rej says frankly, laying back down and clapping his hands on Fjord’s straining thighs that stretch across his own. 

“Powerful,” Fjord corrects, feeling the slabs of muscle under his gut, the firmness in his chest. Those massive arms. “Bet you could carry me one handed, you’ve got arms thick around as my thighs.”

“Flattery,” Rej muses, still stroking Fjord’s legs. “How about you see what else of me’s the same as you remember.”

Fjord quirks a grin at him, but unlatches the belt and pulls it free of the loops. A few buttons and a thin layer of leather stand between him and the dark green cock, quickly done away with to reveal it. Fjord bites his lip as he frees the member from its confines. It’s proportional to the rest of Rej, but that doesn’t make it any less impressive considering his proportions. Rej twitches wonderfully when Fjord swipes the oil off his stomach and against his cock. He strokes him from a few minutes using both hands, pushing the delicate skin up to the crown then pulling it gently back down. The throb of veins, the stiffening of tissue beneath. The smell of him. It’s intoxicating in all the ways the wine wishes it could be and the head rush has Fjord thrusting himself against Rej’s cock, laying his whole body against Rej’s to bury his face in his chest. 

Rej groans, thrusting up to match him, one hand against Fjord’s back, the other having slid up Fjord’s thigh and cupped his ass. At Fjord’s whispered encouragement, Rej slides his finger into Fjord carefully. They lazily squirm and roll against each other as Rej works him open again, more completely and more smoothly. Fjord bites down against Rej’s chest when he shoves three thick fingers down to the last knuckle, straining to spread them deep inside Fjord. Between the pressure, the panting praise, and the hot slide of their bodies, Fjord comes hard. “Look at that,” Rej says, part surprised, part impressed.

“That’s...” Fjord tries, tongue too heavy to manage a complete sentence, his eyes still closed. “Good.”

“Mm, real good,” Rej says, removing his fingers from Fjord’s ass. He hoists Fjord up his body a bit, shushing him when he starts to moan at the stimulation to his cock. With a moment of slightly awkward fishing—which Fjord doesn’t register—Rej pulls his still quite hard cock up and rests it against Fjord’s hot hole, pressed between his cheeks. “You know, it’s poor manners for the whore to finish himself off before the client.”

“Don’t wanna be rude,” Fjord mutters, reaching back to press Rej’s cock more firmly against his ass and slides it up and down a bit. “Y’wanna fuck me?”

Rej pats Fjord’s face, “I want to fuck you until you can’t think of anything but when I’m gonna fuck you again. I want to fuck you so hard you’ll be tasting my cum for a week. If I had what I want, I would fuck you until you never wanted to leave again. But what do you want?”

Fjord wants to scream in frustration that his body is physically incapable of getting him hard again, but his skin is slight and his brain still flushed with all sorts of feelings. “Just fuck me,” he says.

“You still tender?” Rej asks.

“Don’t make me beg for something you want just as bad as me,” Fjord says.

Rej looks skeptical, but obliges, lining his cock up against Fjord’s hole and thrusting upward until the head pops in. His approach is slow, very slow, and he’s watching Fjord’s face carefully. “Just tell me to stop if you need me to, Captain.”

“What happened to fucking me til I want to stay?”

“I’d prefer it if your stay was longer than the night I kill you with my dick, so if you could keep your head on for a bit?”

“I’m fine, Rej,” Fjord says, more forcefully, and shoves backward. That... wasn’t the best move, but Fjord sticks to it and lets the slick oil ease him back up and the next slide down is much smoother. His dicks gives a small twitch of interest. “See?” Fjord gasps.

“Aye aye,” Rej says, and lets Fjord do the work for a while, nuzzling the hair at the top of his head and massaging his back and thighs. Fjord’s thighs start to burn, and the oil starts to get thin, but he goes for as long as he can with Rej’s hitching breath as encouragement and the pulsing of his cock a reward. Rej stops him, holding him at the top of a thrust, the thick head of Rej’s dick still inside him. “Let me,” he says into Fjord’s ear. 

They change positions, Fjord sliding off of Rej completely to be laid down along the blanket and pillows. Rej kicks off his boots and shucks his pants, scrounges more oil, and soaks his cock again. The weight of his gut hits Fjord’s back, pushing him down into the mattress before the cock is once again at his hole and thrusting in. It’s nice, to put it lightly. Which would be putting it in the exact opposite of how Rej is fucking him. Each thrust matches the intensity of the last and Fjord is glad he was able to set his own pace for the first half. Still, Rej leans down to him; ostensibly to keep up the litany of filthy things he would do to Fjord if he were to stay on the island—fuck him until he can’t stand, until he’s so pumped full of cum he can’t move, until he takes everything Rej and anyone else on the island wants to give him—but also notably puts Rej’s ear close enough to Fjord’s mouth to hear him over the creak of the bed and the wet slap and slide of their bodies connecting. 

Fjord is far from complaining, though his asshole is starting to inquire about it; given the girth and intensity over almost an hour now of having things inside it. He’s come twice now, both times dry, and he’s hollered himself hoarse from it. Rej’s balls slap against his own, and it’s not just oil filling him now. Fjord wants to ask if this is an Orc thing or just a Rej thing, but he’s quite preoccupied drooling into the pillow and riding through the aftershocks of the latest orgasm. He has one leg hoisted up, hips sideways, chest down, when Rej huffs like a bull and the hot jet of his cum inside him marks the last one of the session. 

“Done already?” Fjord croaks.

Rej slides his wet, softening dick from Fjord’s gaped hole, “That’ll do for now.” He lets Fjord’s leg drop, then gently lays down on top of him, smushing him down into the bed. “Can you breathe under there?”

“Well ‘nough,” Fjord says, panting as he comes down. The small amount of skin he has still exposed to the air is rapidly cooling, making him grateful for the encompassing heat of Rej’s body. “I don’t suppose you still have that tub?”

“I’m not a spry youth of thirty anymore,” Rej grumbles. “You’re gonna have to wait ‘fore I go fetch m’lord Captain his bath.”

“Fair,” Fjord says, and starts to drift into a nap. His ass is throbbing, his legs are screaming something fierce, and his throat is sorely parched. And it was completely worth it.

The oil has gone tacky and there is congealed cum all along his thighs, stomach, and asshole by the time Rej gets up to get the tub. Fjord shivers at the loss of heat, but thinks better of complaining. When Rej pulls the tub in, he brings with him a large jug of water and a stack of rags. “Think you can stand yet?”

“Maybe,” Fjord says, and makes a valiant effort. He takes a few shaky steps before Rej takes pity and moves to help him. Fjord is a little proud to see Rej’s own footing isn’t completely sure, though. He relies almost completely on Rej as a crutch to actually get into the tub, however, and is glad at least one of them is sturdy. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” Rej says, and clambers into the large wooden tub with him. It’s an awkward fit, but they manage, and the water poured from the jug is clean and warm. Rej takes soap from the pile of rags to scrub away the worst of the oil and sweat, gets them both as clean as they’re going to get under the circumstances, and towels them dry. Fjord would like to talk, but he’s barely got the energy to keep his eyes open. “Unfortunately for you, there’s no way either of us is sleeping in that bed til I’ve given it a proper wash,” Rej says, dumping the last of the jug over Fjord’s head to shock him awake.

“What the fuck- sure, fine,” Fjord complains, blowing water out of his face. “I’ll sleep on the floor if you’ll let me.”

“So barbaric,” Rej says, drying them off after pulling Fjord into a standing position. “I’ve got a cot.”

And he does. It’s not big enough for both of them, and Fjord is loathe to take it from him, but Rej doesn’t have to do much insisting before Fjord finds himself face down and fast asleep in it while Rej, once again, takes care of everything else.

When Fjord wakes, he’s worried he’s gone color-blind before he realizes it’s just dark apart from a dim candle. A candle being held by Mitul along with a tray of what looks like bread and a plate of thin sliced meet with a small clay jug. A tray that is shaking gently. “Ahem, sorry to give you a scare,” Mitul says, “but could you put that away?”

Fjord looks down to see his sword in hand, pointing toward Mitul. He banishes it, “Sorry. Is that for me? You got the time? Uh, where’s Rej?”

“In- in order: Not a problem. Yes. An hour past sun down. And somewhere in town handling a dispute.”

“Thank you,” Fjord says, standing to take the tray and put it on the table. When he turns back, Mitul is looking far less frightened and far more intrigued. The breeze against his bare cock tells him why. “Shit,” he says, covering himself. “Sorry, I’m just uh-“

“After an afternoon with Rej I’m surprised you woke up at all before morning,” Mitul says, looking at Fjord’s body shamelessly. “Given that trick with the sword, though, I’m sure you’ve got some ways of dealing with him.”

Fjord pulls the thin blanket off the cot to wrap around his waist. “Quite,” he says. “So, uhm, Rej sent you up here?”

“I was actually up here a few hours ago, if you don’t remember. You drank a half a gallon of water in one go and went right back to sleep.”

Fjord flushes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mitul says, and starts to leave. “Rej should be back soon.”

“Thanks for... well, everything.” 

“Not a problem,” Mitul says, then winks, “You know, if you’re ever looking to Captain off-ship, I’ll be around.”

Before Fjord can think of something to say, Mitul is gone with a mischievous chuckle. He’s not going to survive this fucking island. Still, he’d rather not die on an empty stomach. By the time Rej returns, he’s polished off everything on the tray. The door swings open slowly at first, until Rej sees Fjord sitting at the table in nothing but the thin sheet. “Captain Fjord, you’re awake.”

“You know, I feel the people of this place don’t respect my title.”

“Sorry, Captain,” Rej says, stepping into the room with a wicker basket piled with linens. “It won’t happen again, Captain.”

“I’m going to have you flogged,” Fjord says, getting to his feet to close the door behind him. “Publicly.”

“Is that where we’re going with this next time? Didn’t know that shit tickled your fancy.”

“Next time? Someone’s hopeful,” Fjord says, standing on his toes and still needing Rej to lean down to kiss him. 

“We’ll give your poor little hole some time to recover, don’t you worry,” Rej says. “But you’re the Captain, aren’t you? No rush to leave this time. I might still convince you to stay.”

“You might,” Fjord says. “You might.”

**Author's Note:**

> Probably gonna write another chapter.


End file.
